The Boy-Who-Lived
by Shira1111
Summary: Harry is the Boy-Who-Lived, but no one ever said that he is also the Boy-Who-Lives. What happend really when Voldemort cast the Killing Curse and what is Harry's 'power the Dark Lord knows not? Now, Harry has a difficult decision to make. Oneshot, starts at the end of book 4.


Disclaimer: I only borrowed the Harry Potter world and I certainly won't make any money with it. Not mine, alls JKR's.

Author's Note (because who can simply get on with the story?)

Many, many thanks to "I can kill you with my brain" who was so nice as to correct my grammar and spellings and such. I'm not a native English speaker (or rather writer in this case) so I'd have been lost without the great help.

* * *

When Harry and Cedric reappeared with a lifeless man and some strange thing the size of a baby at the entrance of the maze, all hell broke loose. Nobody noticed in the commotion how Mad-Eye Moody behaved completely out of character when he saw the group. Nobody noticed how he first staggered, his face contorted, then tried to run, and, after he couldn't really manage that with his wooden leg, simply disappeared. He wasn't seen again, and it wasn't until days later when a house elf went to Moody's rooms to clean up that the real one was found in his own magical trunk.

Meanwhile, the teenagers were brought to the hospital wing and checked over by Madam Pomfrey, while Professor McGonagall took great pleasure in introducing Minister Fudge and Professor Snape to Peter Pettigrew. He was unconscious, probably due to blood loss, because his hand was missing, cleanly cut off and now bandaged. While he was being tied to the bed and charmed so he couldn't transform into his rat animagus, Madam Pomfrey was satisfied enough with the health of her patients to let Dumbledore take them to her office to talk to them in private.

Harry left it to Cedric to tell him what happened. He nodded when looked at, but otherwise was deeply in thought. He was free. He saw the black spirit vanish when he touched the mutant baby. His way to the afterlife or whatever it was that came next wasn't blocked any longer by his worst nightmare. He had to decide what to do. Maybe Hermione could help; she always knew what to do and she wouldn't judge him. She would understand - if not, then his decision was already clear. He only heard with half his mind how Cedric explained how they decided to both take Tri-Wizard-Cup, and that it had taken them to a graveyard.

"We had just arrived when we heard a noise and someone saying 'kill the spare'. That would have been me, but when something that looked poison green, like how the killing curse is described, came rushing in my direction, Harry pushed me away and was hit instead. As you noticed, he is still alive. He survived again. He told me to pretend to be dead, to not move one bit, and I did. Therefore I only saw pieces of what happened when that guy we brought with us took Harry captive. Is he really Peter Pettigrew and responsible for the death of Harry's parents?" Dumbledore nodded and looked at Harry, who was staying strangely still.

"He is, and the story will likely be in the Daily Prophet tomorrow. For now, please continue."

"He bound Harry to a tombstone; in front was a cauldron with some potion already in it," Cedric continued, only to be interrupted by Harry.

"It was the grave of his father. Tom Riddle. That thing we brought with us, that's Voldemort. He tried to get a new body, to be resurrected. They took a bone from the grave and Pettigrew cut of his own hand, because the ritual needed 'bone from the father, flesh from the servant, and blood from the enemy'. But Pettigrew couldn't get my blood when he tried to cut my arm." He fell silent again. He knew why Pettigrew wasn't able to harm him; there was no blood in him that could be taken, but he couldn't tell them, right? Nobody knew and he wanted to keep it that way. When Pettigrew noticed that something was wrong, all the time losing blood from his wrist, Harry smiled sadly at him. "It wasn't such a good idea to cut off your hand before you could be sure that it would work. You couldn't be sure that there would be someone to heal you in a short time." Pettigrew once again tried to cut open Harry's arm, but again the knife just went through his arm without coming in contact with anything. 'What are you?' Peter wanted to know, and Harry answered 'That what Voldemort made me to be'.

Dumbledore learned from Cedric only that Pettigrew couldn't harm Harry, and thought of theories that were similar to those of Harry's encounter with Quirrel in his first year. "And then Pettigrew started to flicker. I don't know whether he tried to apparate or to change to his animagus form, but it seems that he couldn't concentrate enough, due to his blood loss or panic or both. And then he just collapsed and Harry was free again when the spell that bound him fell with Pettigrew. He went over to You-Know-Who and put his hands on him and - I don't know what happened. When he called me to help him get Pettigrew to the cup to portkey back, he was carrying that thing and it was clearly dead. And then we came back. He saved my life, Professor." It seemed that now, after having told someone of everything that happened, Cedric started to understand that he could very well be dead by now.

"I'd, I'd like to go see my Dad know," he excused himself, and fled without waiting for a response. For a few minutes Dumbledore only looked at Harry, who had fallen still again.

"Do you have anything to add, Harry, my boy?" he wanted to know, starting to think what would be the best way to go now. Was it too early to tell the people that the Dark Lord…

"He really is dead now. I am certain." It was as if Harry had read his mind, but that of course was nonsense. It was probably the most important question right now, and Harry seemed absolutely confident.

"He won't come back. I could see his 'spirit' or whatever you want to call it. It didn't leave, not like what it did with Quirrel before it charged at me. It just disappeared." And with that their meeting came to an end, because whatever questions Dumbledore asked Harry didn't respond to until Madam Pomfrey took him back to his bed and told Dumbledore not to bother her distraught patient.

* * *

Harry was only released from the hospital wing at noon on the day of the leaving feast and didn't even get to eat lunch with his friends because he was called to Dumbledore's office immediately. It wasn't a nice conversation that followed, and even thinking about it made Harry angry again.

"Harry, my boy, come in and take a seat," Dumbledore had begun when Harry entered his office. "Lemon drop?" 'Did he really always have to offer everyone a lemon drop, or was it only him?', Harry wondered while he shook his head.

"I thought you would be interested in hearing that the Department of Magical Law Enforcement has taken Peter Pettigrew to a holding cell until he awakes from the magical coma Madam Pomfrey had to put him in. He was nearly dead when you arrived, did neither of you think to heal him so he wouldn't die?" Dumbledore's eyes were still twinkling, but he had a serious tone to his voice that showed disappointment.

"No, sir, we didn't. We only thought about, you know, getting back to safety, before something else would happen to us. I didn't really care what happened to someone who is responsible for my parent's death and nearly killed Cedric and myself, I only brought him along so that Sirius would get the trial he deserves. I hope we will get along well when we spend more time together and have a lot of fun this summer."

It would make things so much easier for him if he could stay with Sirius, and maybe he would even tell him everything after he got to know him better. But he wasn't really surprised, more exasperated, when Dumbledore's gaze turned dark.

"I'm really sorry my boy, but until we know for sure that Voldemort is dead - and it will take at least a few weeks before the Dark Mark has faded as much as it did when he was only temporarily gone - you have to stay with your relatives. And even when we are sure, the Death Eaters will be looking for you once again to avenge their lord and it would be foolish not to take advantage of the blood wards on your current home."

Harry didn't really remember what else Dumbledore told him; of the bureaucracy and why it would still take a long while for Sirius to get his trial, of keeping everything that happened in the graveyard quiet so there wouldn't be an unnecessary panic after it was over and so on and so on. Things he had to do and things he mustn't do, all for the greater good and not for himself. Leaving Hogwarts for good sounded like a really great idea after he left Dumbledore.

* * *

After everything he heard today, he wasn't surprised that nothing was mentioned of Cedric's and his kidnapping; instead the focus was put on the fact that the two Hogwarts Champions had won the Triwizard Cup together. They split the prize money in half and Harry simply dumped the sack of Galleons in the lap of Fred or George Weasley when he was allowed to get back to his seat.

"For your joke shop," he simply said, but seeing Ron's fast reddening face added "And maybe, if you feel generous, you can take Ron shopping for robes. Otherwise I am afraid that he could burst with jealousy any moment now." He looked sharply at Ron, who had the decency to look ashamed at opposing Harry once again. "Think of it this way Ron. They will leave Hogwarts two years before we will, and if they manage to make their shop a success, you could always ask to help out during summer and earn a bit of money. And you could get better presents for your birthday and Christmas, right?" And much more quietly, so only Ron could hear it, he added "You wouldn't want me to just give the money to you. If I had offered, you'd have told me that you don't want charity from anybody, even less so from your best friend, right?" Thinking about it for a bit, Ron nodded, looking peevish. "But they really want that shop so much that they will just see me as some kind of business partner so that they can take the money without feeling bad about it. And as I don't think that they will forget about the rest of the family, you'll all profit from it in the long run." Ron still didn't seem to be really happy, but he was at least content enough to continue eating, so that Harry could finally do the same. When he noticed Hermione looking at him, he just shrugged his shoulders and mouthed 'later'.

Harry didn't get a chance to speak to Hermione alone until they parted ways at the King's Cross Station, and they all said their good-byes for the summer. When Dumbledore had told him that he would have to go back to the Dursleys' even if he possibly told the truth about the death of Voldemort - and how could Harry be so sure; Voldemort was thought to be dead the last time and he wasn't - so he really, really had to go back to the relatives that hated him. Harry hadn't put up too much of a fight because it wasn't really worth it. He knew that Voldemort was dead, and whatever he decided to do after his much-needed talk with Hermione, he would never go back to the Dursleys' and Dumbledore couldn't make him, at least not if he didn't want to make someone follow him wherever he went.

Even the thought of being free - not in the way Dumbledore wanted to prevent, but in the way of being able to decide to go on to the "next big adventure" or staying in this world made Harry so happy that he decided to have some fun. After he promised Ron and Hermione to write, and before he went through the barrier into the Muggle part of King's Cross, Harry made a slight detour so that his way led him to the Malfoy family, who looked as if they had dirt under their noses instead of school children. Grinning cheekily, because he knew that they couldn't even try to harm him here where everyone would see it, he greeted them.

"Mr. Malfoy, I just wanted to make a suggestion. You should really keep an eye on your left arm for the next few weeks. You might see something interesting happen, though I'm not sure if it would make you happy or not." Without waiting to see their reaction, he turned around to now take the shortest route to his relatives, who were probably counting the seconds he had cost them by not coming directly to them. If only Uncle Vernon knew that each bruise Harry got from being manhandled was only a fake to keep them all in the dark. If he knew that it didn't really matter to Harry whether he got something to eat or not - well, the last one would probably just lead to no more food because there was no reason in wasting money on someone who didn't need it, right? But all in all, they would surely be even more freaked out by him than they already were if they knew that their nephew who lived with them for thirteen years now has been dead ever since a few hours before he was laid on their doorstep.

* * *

Privet Drive was just as Harry remembered, but now that he wasn't afraid anymore, he decided to leave instead of pretending to stay. He hadn't even brought his things back into his room before he told his relatives that he wanted to talk to them.

"Do you remember that last year I told you about my godfather who broke out of prison? He is innocent, and finally has the means to prove it. That means that I will be able to live with him as soon as possible. But Professor Dumbledore wants me to keep living with you, even after I told him that I don't want to, and that you certainly won't miss me, he still keeps insisting. But I think it is time for all of us to finally get what we want, and so, if you are willing to help me just a little bit, I will leave this house for good today. All I need you to do is not to tell anyone. If a wizard or witch appears and wants to talk to me, tell them I am on vacation with a friend from elementary school and refuse to tell them their name or where we went because you don't want to endanger me. I will leave you a means to contact me if it appears to be really important, because you don't want them to know that I'm not living with you any longer. If they would, they'd bring me back and make me stay. You don't want that, I don't want that, so please, please, play along with this, okay?"

He had talked really fast; he wasn't sure if Vernon could take in all the information so quickly, but he had to get everything out before they started to scream at him that they would never do anything for him. He just had to make them understand that it was the best and maybe only way for them to part ways forever – well, maybe he'd have to borrow their garden once or twice to meet someone, but they wouldn't have to know that yet, it wouldn't be a problem later if they managed to accept the idea of working together with Harry on a shared goal.

The silence started to stretch uncomfortably long in Harry's opinion, until he noticed that it wasn't really silent. He simply managed to drone out the hushed whispers of his aunt and uncle's discussion, who apparently were coming to a conclusion now.

"If you leave, we will do our best to pretend that you are still here. That's what you wanted, right?" Vernon obviously wanted to make sure that there weren't any hidden conditions, but his simple wording was good enough for Harry.

"Exactly. Just don't let them know that I'm not here and they won't bother any of us, and most importantly not bring me back."

Uncle Vernon couldn't even get the full sentence of "Fantastic, when can you leave?" out before Harry and his belongings simply faded out until they were completely invisible. A short punch and a bit stupid looking-and-feeling around later, the Dursleys came to the conclusion that he wasn't just invisible but really gone. They ordered a big party pizza with every topping that evening.

* * *

When Harry arrived at Hermione's home the house was still, the lights were out, and there was no car in the driveway. It seemed the Grangers hadn't arrived yet, so Harry sat on the front steps and started to read one of his schoolbooks - the transfiguration text, just because it was the top-most in his trunk. He didn't have to wait long before a red car drove onto the driveway and stopped. Hermione obviously had already seen him, because she practically jumped out of the car as soon as it stopped moving.

"Harry? What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at your relative's house? And how did you even manage to be here before us?" Typically for Hermione, she wanted to know all the facts at the same time, and didn't even give him time to answer any of her questions.

"Slow down, Hermione. How can I answer you if you don't let me get a word in?" He was laughing quietly. "Could I maybe stay with you for a day? Or could you point me to a hotel in this area? I have much I want to tell you, and I'd rather do it face-to-face than by owl." He hadn't answered any of her questions, but the prospect of getting even more information was enough for Hermione to ignore it for the moment.

"I'll have to ask my parents, wait here while I get my things," she said, as if Harry had a real choice. While Hermione freed Crookshanks from his cage and brought the now-empty confinement into the house, Mr. Granger carried her trunk so that Mrs. Granger was the first to arrive at the door. She beckoned Harry to come in.

"Don't stand in the way, come on in. You are Harry, right? Hermione speaks a lot of you and Ron. I'm Jean, her mother." The last part was said with a big smile that showed perfect teeth, as was to be expected from a dentist. She motioned for him to follow her into the sitting room and take a seat while she disappeared to get something to drink.

She reappeared together with her husband and Hermione, who took the place next to Harry, while her parents sat opposite them.

"First things first, I think," Mr. Granger began, and offered Harry a friendly smile. "I'm Dan, nice to meet you, Harry." Harry returned the greeting, feeling refreshingly normal in the presence of this set of adults in contrast to most others. Before anyone else could get a word in, Hermione took control of the conversation and her parents only looked knowingly at each other.

"Would you like to stay with us for a week or so, Harry? It would be really great to have you stay, even if it's maybe a bit strange that we always visit each other right before going back to Hogwarts together or in this case after coming back. With holidays this long, it would make much more sense to meet somewhere in between, wouldn't it? But that's okay. With everything that was going on we didn't get many possibilities to really talk, so it isn't as if we had nothing to say to each other. Can he stay, Mum? We don't have any other guests in the next weeks, right?" When she noticed that everyone was grinning at her, she blushed. "Sorry. I've never had anyone visit, and it feels different from being the guest at someone else's place," she justified her reaction.

"You don't have to be ashamed, Hermione. I'd be really happy to stay, but if your parents don't want to have a runaway in their home, I could rent a room somewhere and we could meet." At this point he shot a look to the Grangers, who didn't look averse to having him stay. "You should know that everyone thinks that I'm staying with my aunt and uncle, same as every year. But we decided that it would be better for everyone involved if we have as little contact as possible. They consented to cover up for me, because our headmaster, Professor Dumbledore, thinks I'm only safe with them. He doesn't take our wishes into consideration, and therefore he mustn't know that I left. I'll tell you later how I arrived here, okay, Hermione? It is rather personal," he added when Mr. and Mrs. Granger looked surprised that he brushed over that topic. They nodded, showing that they understood, and thinking that they probably wouldn't understand it if it had anything to do with magic, which they assumed, they had no intention of asking. They counted on their daughter to tell them if there was something they should know.

It was decided that Harry would stay for the next week at least, and that they would make a trip to Diagon Alley during that time so that Harry could withdraw more money from his vault and change some of it into pounds. After dinner, which was slightly on the awkward side as Hermione couldn't talk about anything else than Harry's visit, while he didn't want to talk about it in the presence of her parents, both teenagers went upstairs to go to sleep.

In Harry's case it wasn't so much sleep, but rather a meditative sleep that took over when he lay down on the bed. He had learned early that it wasn't a great idea for him to really sleep and he didn't need it, so it wasn't worth the risk of being found out. When his relatives noticed that little Harry faded away when he slept, they thought it was a normal freaky wizard thing, so other than yelling at him to stop that nonsense, they didn't do anything about it. But if his classmates had found out, he would have had a hard time explaining himself. In his meditative state he looked more or less as if he was asleep, unless he was watched for too long, because he didn't move in a way a sleeping person normally would. But it seemed that none of his classmates were psychopathic "I watch you in your sleep" guys, so everything went well until now.

* * *

After a late breakfast - it seemed as if Hermione was pretty much able to sleep in if she didn't feel the pressure of schoolwork on her shoulders - Harry and Hermione left the house. It was pleasantly warm, and Harry thought it best to bring a bit distance between himself and Hermione's home, because he wanted to be sure that they wouldn't be overheard. He asked Hermione if she knew of a place that was comfortable and gave them enough privacy so that nobody would get suspicious to see them sitting together in what would appear to be silence. When Hermione told Harry that he would get problems for using magic outside of school, he put her off and promised that he would answer this question first.

Hermione lead them to a small park with benches placed beneath trees and next to bushes, so that each gave at least the feeling of privacy. A small hut in the middle of the park was selling snacks and ice cream, and after telling Hermione to wait for him at the best bench, Harry bought two ice cream cones and few chocolate bars in case Hermione needed something to hold on to. After he returned and gave Hermione her ice, he made a gesture with his hand and whispered "muffliato".

"Harry! Now they will definitely know where you are, and they will thrown you out of Hogwarts! Why did you do that?" But Harry kept calm and started licking at his ice cream, as if to motion her to do the same.

"As you saw, I didn't use my wand, so they won't know that it was me doing the magic. That's why I wanted to leave your house. If I did it there, they simply would have assumed that it was you, because you are the only magical being in your family. If they really _knew_ who did what magic, just from the use of magic itself, I would have never gotten that letter before the second year, because they would have known that Dobby did magic, not me. But they just assumed. I don't even think they would care what happened in a completely magical household life at the Burrow. And besides…" he stopped and sighed. Here came the hard part, the beginning. "I'm pretty sure that me doing magic wouldn't register as underage magic. I'm not an underage wizard, Hermione. Technically, I have been dead for nearly fourteen years." He looked away, at the ice in his hands, and started eating, just to have something to do while he gave Hermione time to understand what he had said. Time to understand, time to protest and tell him that wasn't funny. Time to at least think about it.

"What do you mean you are dead? Even wizards can't bring the dead back to life, so that can't be correct." At least Hermione was still using her analytical capabilities, so he hadn't completely lost her with his statement. And she was slowly eating her ice cream, also a good sign, but the crease on her forehead showed that she wasn't happy and very skeptical. "If this is some kind of bizarre joke…" she began, but was interrupted.

"It isn't, I swear." Harry's voice was quiet, but steady. It sounded confidence-inspiring, and his eyes said the same. "Just for this moment, before I start explaining, take it as I said it. If I'm dead, I don't really have an age. And therefore, I'm not underage and my magic won't register as such. Does that sound logical to you, if you assume that the basis is correct?" Hermione nodded slowly. "I already told you what must have happened in the summer before our second year, and more or less the same must have happened before the third. To my knowledge, there are no other witches or wizards in that area, so if something happens it is easy to find the source. If it is Privet Drive, then it must have been Harry Potter. And because of Sirius and me running away, they decided not to punish me. And because they didn't intend to punish me, they never noticed that it wasn't registered as underage magic." He made another pause to keep the sun from stealing his ice cream from him. He might not need food, but his body worked really well, including tasting things, even if he was never sure if what he tasted was even approximately what normal people tasted. But he liked what chocolate ice cream was like for himself, so he didn't want to waste it. Neither of them said another word until they had finished.

"I don't know where to start, Hermione. I could start at the beginning, I guess. At _my_ beginning. Or with the reason I'm telling you now. Or probably at any time in between." He shook his head; it wasn't easy. How did you tell someone something like this?

"Maybe you could start with the reason. I'd like that, because…" she looked apologetic. "I'm not sure if I can believe you. Knowing the why might help to not make it sound like a stupid prank." She leaned slightly against him, showing him support even if she couldn't believe him yet. Harry nodded.

"Yeah, I can do that. That is actually pretty simple, because it comes down to a simple fact. Voldemort is gone. Completely, with no return ticket. I think you noticed that Dumbledore glossed over what happened when Cedric and I were transported away by the cup? We were kidnapped by Pettigrew, who wanted to resurrect Voldemort. Some ugly stuff happened, but the important part is that when I killed the thing that was Voldemort, it wasn't like in first year when a black ghost left Quirrel and escaped. He died, and he took the rest of him that was still lingering with him." He raised his hand to stop Hermione before she could even ask a question. "When I was only one year old, and Voldemort attacked my family and eventually cast the killing curse, I didn't die immediately. The course bounced back and killed Voldemort, and only then did I die. But when I was dead, I could still see him. He was this big black cloud and I was afraid of it. I wanted to go and find mum and dad, but I was so afraid the black cloud would consume me if I tried to leave that I stayed. Normally, I would have become a ghost at that moment, but that isn't the point at the moment." Once again, Hermione looked as if she wanted to protest, so Harry gave her one of the chocolate bars and smiled cautiously. It was his way of saying "please don't interrupt, I don't know if I would be able to start again if you do." When Hermione stayed silent and nodded slowly, he continued.

"I kind of am a ghost, I can show you later if you really want, but from what I learned later from books, I am also totally different. I can still use magic and most of all I am able to create a physical body. That's what I did when I heard someone entering the room, and my real body just…disappeared." He sounded depressed at that thought. When he left, there would be nothing of him to bury. He would be completely gone. "Hagrid never suspected anything, and then Dumbledore left me on the doorstep of my aunt's house. A neat side effect of being dead seems to be a really great memory. Can you believe that? Leaving a baby in the middle of an autumn night on a doorstep, without even so much as ringing at the door to get someone's attention? If I hadn't already been dead, I could have died in those hours - it was really cold. But as I was too afraid to leave this world, I decided to go with the way my life should have been. It would have never worked if my relatives had known anything about what is normal for young wizards. But they didn't, and therefore never questioned strange occurrences. I learned everything I had to know so I wouldn't get caught and later on looked up what was normal for wizards and could be seen at Hogwarts and what wasn't." Hermione had finished her chocolate bar, and he wanted to hand her another one to hinder her and her from speaking. But not this time.

"Harry, you can't gag me with chocolate. If you keep this up, I'd have to diet for the rest of the summer! Just, you said that you have a really good memory?" He could guess which way this train of thought was going, but decided to sidetrack her a little bit.

"Yeah, did no one wonder why I looked so absolutely like my father? It isn't normal for children to be a nearly exact copy of one of their parents, but I am. When time passed and Dudley got older, I had to grow too. But I didn't know what I would have looked like normally. I had black hair and green eyes, and hey, my father had black hair. I remembered seeing pictures of him from his Hogwarts times. I shouldn't have been able to do that, right? But here I am, looking like him, because I wasn't creative enough to build my own body." He shrugged; it felt strange talking about more or less having stolen his appearance, because he had none of his own. But Hermione was still Hermione, and had different priorities.

"But if you have such a good memory, why are you so…average at school? I'm studying all the time to get good grades in tests and assignments, and you could probably do the same with much less effort. Don't you care about your grades?" It hadn't really registered yet that being dead, Harry had other problems and wouldn't need an education to make something of his life because he didn't have one. Her brain refused to process 'Harry is dead' correctly and bring it together with 'he isn't alive. You should have never met him. You shouldn't be talking with him right now.' But now it was happening, and Hermione shook as it started to get real. Tears welled up when Harry pulled her into a hug and stroked her back.

"It's okay, Hermione. I'm sorry to put you through this, but I need someone to know. I'm free now and have to decide..." It wasn't necessary to say it out loud; she knew what he meant and a few tears transformed into whole-hearted weeping.

They stayed huddled together even after Hermione got control over the tears, until Hermione started to laugh miserably.

"I'm sorry. Can we go back home? I have to use the bathroom..." The last words were spoken quietly, as if ashamed for bringing up something so mundane after Harry told her such incredible things. But at the same time she was relieved to have an excuse to pause the discussion, giving her time to think everything through and come to terms with it. They went back and, for the sake of Hermione's parents, tried to have as normal day as possible, talking about school and homework, about plans for the holidays and if Harry could live with Sirius before his seventeenth birthday or if Dumbledore would manage to prevent him from getting at least a glimpse at a normal life. It was strange, but they managed to bridge the day, until they sat on the same bench the next day.

* * *

"Now tell me why you only did averagely on schoolwork when you could have been better?" Hermione's priorities were clear, and Harry laughed lowly. It worked perfectly to sidetrack her from the important parts, so that they could sink in while she was thinking about other things.

"I didn't have to pretend not to be very good in the practicals, because my magic is constantly drained to keep myself corporeal. I always had to put extra concentration and effort in it to transfigure something for example. But I got the feeling that everyone thought that the Boy-Who-Lived should be really good at magic. He has to be powerful to survive the killing curse and beat Voldemort, right? I didn't want to disappoint them, and together with average essays and tests, it appeared as if I was only so average in spell work because I didn't care to work for school. You are one of the few exceptions in Gryffindor concerning your work ethic." He paused and waited for the rebuke. Even though Hermione knew that it was true that her study habits were more like a Ravenclaw's, she didn't like that the Gryffindors took school so lightly. But the expected outburst never came; instead, she looked at him thoughtfully.

"If you mention this to someone, I'll deny everything," Hermione began, with a strange mixture of a serious voice and laughing eyes, "But I guess I understand why you did it. What I don't quite understand is, why didn't you ever tell anyone? I mean, it is strange. And I'm not sure if I really, well, not believe you, but if I have taken it in. I try not to think about it too much because…oh, Harry." In those few moments that she obviously did think about it, she became visibly upset. Harry laid his arm around her and squeezed slightly.

"It's okay. I know it's a lot to deal with, and I'm just glad that you are still listening to me. But that's also more or less the answer to your question. Who should I have told? Either no one would have believed me, or they would have given me to the Department of Mysteries as a guinea pig. Yes, Hermione, I did read up on the Magical World; not knowing and not caring was part of the Boy-Who-Lived play. And - before you say I could have gone to Dumbledore or McGonagall or something like that - remember what I told you yesterday. It was Dumbledore who left a baby on a doorstep on a cold night. And remember how McGonagall dismissed our worries about the Sorcerer's Stone, even though we were right? Also, Dumbledore hired Quirrel and Lockhart and didn't notice that the first was evil and the second a fraud. Or he noticed and didn't care. Same for the other teachers." He looked apologetic. "I know that you look up to authorities, but you have to admit that they didn't do a really good job protecting us students. I won't trust them with something this important to me." Hermione nodded, and even added another reason not to trust the teachers to protect Harry.

"And when you were forced to participate in the Triwizard Tournament this year, they were set on keeping to the rules and not helping you, with just a few exceptions. No one really tried to get you out of it or told the other pupils not to bully you because you didn't do it yourself. It could have easily been checked with a truth serum, right? And then they could have tutored you, just in the aspects they anticipated Cedric to use due to what he learned in school." Hermione had problems stopping herself. It didn't make things easier to know that nothing could have harmed Harry…wait.

"Why were you in the hospital wing so often when your body isn't real, shouldn't you be able to simply fix it? Or avoid harm in the first place?"

_'Trust Hermione to catch on to that'_, Harry thought, and shook his head. "Whenever I could, I did exactly that. But how long would it have taken you to figure out that something was off if I never got hurt? When the bludger broke my arm in second year, it was hard not to fix it, because as long as I have my body, I feel pain like everyone does. Even worse, after Lockhart vanished my bones and I had to take Skelegrow to get them back, I could have avoided it, but nearly the whole school saw what happened. They knew I were hurt, they knew my bones were gone, I couldn't simply jump up and say 'don't worry, I'm okay, nothing happened'. So I didn't. But minor injuries or illnesses, where nobody would get suspicious, those I could avoid." He shrugged, but then went still for a moment. "Come, let's take a walk. That pair over there," he pointed at a bench nearer to the kiosk, "has been looking at us strangely and I don't want them to come over and ask questions. I'll even buy you a drink if you stick to the 'no sweets' rule." That got him a light hit on the shoulder from Hermione, but she stood up and they started to slowly walk around the park. It was quite big, so they wouldn't be going in circles as quickly as it took to look strange.

"Grades, not telling anyone, getting hurt," Hermione murmured to herself, mentally going through a checklist. "Right, why did you stay with your relatives, and why did you even go to Hogwarts? You could have done whatever you wanted. Wasn't that ever tempting?" This time, she got a question in return.

"Why do the ghosts of Hogwarts stay in Hogwarts? I don't really know. Yes, I thought about it, but if you won the lottery today and became so rich that you would never have to work, would you just leave? Or still go to school with me and Ron, stay with your parents in the summer, and everything? It's not easy to leave your life behind, even if you don't have one anymore. And the wizarding world is a much better place for ghosts then the mundane one, so that's also part of the reason." He went silent when a group of young children passed them. They were laughing and screaming loudly, and while many people are bothered by that, Harry watched them with a sad smile on his face. "Life could have been great... but I should be happy. I got more than the normal person does in my situation." He shook his head, chasing off the dark thoughts.

"What could be your next question? A lot of things I could have done differently come down to not wanting to attract attention, you'll have figured that out, so nothing about this... I give up." As soon as he said that Hermione, who had watched him with an amused smile on her face, spoke up.

"How does your body work? Why are you able to eat and what happens to the food?" She had more or less entered her 'eager student' mode, and Harry didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

"The best comparison I can give you is transfiguration. When you want to change a tea can into a turtle, you say the incantation, make the correct gesture, and think how you want the turtle to look, right? But you don't know all the biological details of it, and still you are able to produce a being that is capable of living normally. With me, it's the same. I only have to concentrate on the visible aspects and my magic somehow does the rest." Probably that wasn't the answer Hermione wanted, but it was the only one he could give her.

When he got older and more capable of understanding what until then he was only instinctively doing, he had the same questions, but had given up on getting answers very soon. He was happy that it worked somehow; that was all he really cared about. Meanwhile, they had walked around the park once and Harry kept his promise to buy Hermione something to drink 'just an apple juice please, I don't understand why they don't have it at school' and they decided to walk back, but not in the same uncomfortable silence as yesterday, and Harry promised to tell Hermione about the real course of action in first, second, and fourth year later that day, when her parents were away on a dinner party. It was time for Harry to finish his story, because the day after tomorrow they would go to Diagon Alley, and if he came any closer to making a decision until then, he could sort out his affairs with Gringotts.

* * *

Before Mr. and Mrs. Granger left for the party, they prepared cream sauce with salmon and red bell peppers for Hermione and Harry, so that they would only have to warm up the sauce and cook noodles for dinner. They reminded the teenagers not to forget about eating, as they knew that Hermione was prone to do so, and they didn't know about Harry. Hermione assured them that they would eat in an hour or two, and after the Grangers left, she and Harry went to her room.

It was a nice room, and looked exactly like Harry thought it would: everything kept rather simple and not too colorful. Hermione sat on the great bed with light blue covers and motioned for Harry to take the seat in front of her desk, as she only had that one real seating. The desk, Harry noticed, was very well kept, and Hermione had already laid out all the assigned homework. The rest of the room was mostly bookcases, and the one that was already a third full with magical books had a curtain hanging on the side. When Hermione noticed Harry's interested look, she shrugged.

"I still have a friend from elementary school who lives nearby. She was a lot like me, and is going to a prestigious boarding school, so we both have long summer holidays and meet sometimes just to talk about this and that to make the time pass. I couldn't just let her see the books, and I don't really want to have to put them away every time, so I thought that was a good idea." Harry nodded.

"It is. I never thought about the difficulties living with Muggles. I mean, I never had any friends that would wonder where I am and why I have strange books and an owl and everything. Has to have at least one advantage to have no friends, right?" He made it sound as if he didn't care, but his eyes told Hermione everything. He would have rather pretended than be alone, and her experience went along with that. "I'm glad I have you now, and Ron, although he gets his envy problems now and again. And you seem to have gotten at least a bit over your authority problem, the way you were talking about this year earlier. That's why I'm here now and telling you all this, because at the end of this night, I'm going to ask you a question. But now, it's time to tell you what really happened after I left through the black fire in our first year.

"After I learned that Quirrell was possessed by Voldemort and got the stupid stone - I didn't even want it, it would have been much safer if it just stayed in there until Flamel could get it back himself - Quirrell attacked me. Or rather Voldemort, because Quirrell didn't look like he wanted to fight with me after he noticed that touching me hurt him. Dumbledore later told me he thought it was because of my mother's love that protected me, but that's just stupid. If it was just the fact that my mother died trying to protect me, there would have been more children to survive the killing curse. And if it was because she had a real choice because Voldemort didn't care about her, then I ask you this: how would Dumbledore have known that my mother was different then all the others before her? He wasn't there. He simply needed an explanation, and took the one that was the most clichéd. In reality, I didn't know how to defeat Voldemort then, and didn't want him to know that I wasn't alive anymore. So I couldn't let him 'kill' me, nor could I just vanish into thin air, because both would tell him too much. What I did instead was..." He looked to the ceiling, searching for something, before asking: "Do you have a fire alarm here, and how sensitive is it? I don't want to activate it." Hermione thought she understood what he wanted to do.

"A bit of smoke like from a bunch of candles won't activate it unless you hold them directly under it. But wouldn't that set off the underage magic detection?" Harry shook his head, and, just for a few seconds, tiny flames could be seen on his skin,

"It won't register anymore than I am normally doing; I mean, I more or less am nothing more than magic. But because it's a constant form of magic, they don't take it for a spell. It appears more like a magical object, and it isn't forbidden to bring one of those back home," he explained. "But, well, this is what hurt Quirrell. I wasn't sorry when he died, although I'm not sure if it was my doing or the way Voldemort left his mind rather suddenly. But I don't like how Dumbledore never even tried to help an eleven-year-old after having an active part in killing someone in self-defense. That's nothing you forget so easily, so I guess I'm lucky that my outlook on life is a bit different." His gaze fell on the clock next to Hermione's bed. "Let's get cooking. You need something to eat and I'll gladly eat my part; it was smelling nice."

Down in the kitchen they just held a bit of small talk to pass the time that the spaghetti needed to cook, because both somehow felt the kitchen was the wrong place for this kind of conversation. Only when both had a plate with food before them - they decided to be correct and eat at the table instead of in Hermione's room – did Harry continue with the events in the Chamber of Secrets, taking a forkful of noodles every once in a while.

"After Ron and Lockhart where stuck behind the cave-in, it was much easier for me. The version of Voldemort I met there, Tom Riddle, a fifth year student, was just a memory that tried to take form. He couldn't leave before he gained a body, unlike Voldemort's spirit, and at that time he wasn't possessing Ginny any longer, so I had no reason to hold back. He was furious when the Basilisk's stare couldn't kill me and even more so when I got Gryffindor's sword and just went up to the Basilisk and stuck the sword up through its head through the open mouth. To do that, I had to be at least partly corporeal and that's when one of the fangs went right through my arm. It hurt, and the poison reacted at once. I'm glad Fawkes was there to heal me. The Basilisk was ancient and their poison is magical, not like a mundane one, so I couldn't even be sure that it would have no lasting effects on me. I don't want to think about what it would have been like if I couldn't heal myself anymore; a summer with the Dursleys would suddenly be much worse for example.

"Also, I don't know how well a phoenix and his bonded wizard can communicate, but that day Fawkes learned what I was and apparently didn't inform Dumbledore about it. Personally, I like to think that he could have but decided against it. It feels nice to think a phoenix would keep my secrets. Afterwards, I used the basilisk's fang to destroy Riddle's diary, just as I told Dumbledore later; he would have noticed if there was no residue of the poison. And you already know what happened after Ginny woke up and how Fawkes had to give us a lift to get out of the Chamber." With the many breaks he made to eat, their plates were empty when he finished his corrected version of the adventure in the Chamber of Secrets. They cleared up the kitchen and returned to Hermione's room.

"You know what happened in third year. With all of you there, I had no chance to use my abilities without you noticing that something was wrong. During the tournament it was a bit different. The first task was just like you saw, only with the added benefit of me not being afraid of the dragon. During the second task, after I was deep enough and sure that I wasn't monitored, I used it to avoid the grindylow and get faster to the merpeople. But I didn't trust Dumbledore with his hostages - there were deaths in prior tournaments, so no one would be blamed if something went wrong. In the hedge maze it was more or less the same; whenever I was sure that nobody was monitoring me, I used my unique skills and no, I don't feel bad for cheating, I don't even think of it as cheating. I was thrown into that mess without wanting to and I just did what the tournament asks of you, to use everything at your disposal to win. But I didn't want to take the victory away from Cedric, I was concerned with showing everyone who predicted my death that I was better than they thought. It was a good thing Cedric didn't want to take the Cup alone, he would have died in that case. He nearly did, if I hadn't reacted fast enough and jumped in the way. Now I'm the boy-who-lived-twice or something, but everyone already thought I was different for surviving it once, so there's no harm in surviving the curse a second time. I told Cedric to play dead and only due to that was I able to manipulate Pettigrew and finish off Voldemort - from where he was lying, Cedric couldn't see me and only heard what was spoken loud enough. I told you what he told Dumbledore, but there were a few pieces missing.

"Pettigrew couldn't touch me because I let those parts of my body vanish whenever he tried. And not only did I remind him of the problem that he would be slowly bleeding to death if he didn't get help somehow, but also that he owed me a life debt because I didn't let Sirius kill him the year before. He would have to pay it back, otherwise he would be cursed, and how did he think he could pay it back after I was dead? He didn't believe that I was going to survive that night, or was he so stupid? I saw that he hadn't thought of that little detail, and it frightened him even more. I learned that apparating in such a state is a really, really bad idea. After he passed out, the charm that held me to the tombstone vanished and I killed the mutated baby that held Voldemort's soul. There was nothing left of the child the body belonged to; Voldemort wasn't just a parasite, but was bound to the body like a human normally is, and therefore he couldn't leave it like he did with Quirrell. He tried to escape, but it only made his death that much faster. I could see that now, now the way to my parents was free. And that's the reason I'm here and telling you all this. I can leave this world, if I want to, or stay as long as I like. But I don't know what I want, all in all; it is nice going to Hogwarts and being friends with you and Ron, but I don't really belong here. Help me. Help me decide, please." And with those words and a strange, haunted look in his eyes, Harry left the room and locked himself in the guestroom.

* * *

This night, Harry didn't even try to pretend to sleep. The door was locked so nobody could surprise him, and Hermione knew not to worry if strange things happened with him, so there was no need to bother with it. Besides, he was already thinking about the decision he had to make - or rather, the decision he now could make. Too many thoughts ran through his head for him to get into a meditative state; instead he experienced for the first time what normal people know as insomnia. Never before did he spend a night tossing and turning in his bed, trying to bring order to his mind. When the time came to get up and have breakfast with Hermione - she was knocking on his door and didn't take 'I don't need food' for an answer - he got up and wasn't any wiser then the evening before.

"So, do you want to go out again or stay here? The sky doesn't look very promising, and the weather forecast announced rain for later," Hermione wanted to know while eating a few slices of toast, and ignoring the fact that Harry didn't even pretend to be normal anymore.

"We can stay. They didn't come here looking for me the first day and if they had somehow heard our talk yesterday evening, they would have been here by now. I think I'm safe for the moment, and it wouldn't do for me to make you sit outside in the rain and get sick during the summer." He smiled just a little bit, showing Hermione that he cared about her enough to get through his otherwise depressed mood.

Hermione nodded, since Harry's declaration of being dead she had a feeling it would come to this - his cry for help last night was only the evidence how lost he truly was.

She cleared off the table and returned to her room, more or less having to drag Harry there. She sat him down beside her on her bed and watched silently for a few minutes how he was deep in thought. Then, she cleared her throat.

"Why are you thinking about leaving us? You could leave whenever you want if you decide to stay for now, but leaving couldn't be reversed. Therefore, to me, this is the most important question, and one that I can't find the answer to. But I can give you reasons to stay, and I will, because I don't want to lose you." She didn't want to give up her best friend, and didn't mind that he was…different. While she had no problem with him being dead - the magical world gave her many strange things without a logical explanation that she simply had to accept - it was still difficult to think of him that way because he appeared so normal most of the time.

"I could see my parents again," was the first and very simple answer to Hermione's question. "But you are right; when I leave, whenever that will be, we will have all the time that we want, so it isn't really urgent." Silently, he pondered on his next words. "I would be away from the Dursleys forever, Dumbledore couldn't bring me back to them even if he wanted. That reminds me: I have to buy a two-way-journal tomorrow if I intend to stay. I can't stand it anymore, how Dumbledore thinks he knows better than everyone and can decide for everybody. Sirius never got his trial, and I don't believe that he will anytime soon, because then he would be my legal guardian and there would be nothing Dumbledore could do to prevent it. Not that I don't understand why he wants me to be with the Dursleys, but I've only ever had negative effects, and the wards he clings to, well, they don't exist." Shaking his head, he looked at Hermione. "Why should I stay when he doesn't want me to have a happy life? He didn't even believe me when I told him Voldemort was dead. And more then anything, I want to be free." Hermione took his hand in hers and squeezed it slightly.

"That's all very understandable Harry, but don't you see? You don't have to stay with the Dursleys, or even pretend to stay with them. You don't have to keep hiding from everyone. You feared they would imprison you to experiment on you, but while I don't believe that they could hold you, even if they did, you could still 'leave'. If you don't want to, you don't even have to come back to Hogwarts. Not that I like to say this, but you don't gain anything in attending, right? But I would miss you. Ron too, I guess, although he'd be angrier at first for just leaving him behind and going on some adventure alone. What I want to say is..." she sighed. It was harder then she thought to stay objective, not let her feelings lead her to pleading with him. "If you stay, it would be really, really great if you would come with us to Hogwarts again. Just as long as you want or can without any interference from Dumbledore." Another sigh and another moment of silence, before she continued.

"But school starts only in two months, so I'm looking a bit too far ahead. It's summer; we have holidays, you can travel to wherever you want and just have fun. And don't tell me that you don't want to spend money that you could give away when you leave. Everyone needs to have a vacation now and then, and you wouldn't even have to take a plane like I'm always doing with my parents. You could just... appear there, like you did here. Take Sirius with you, get to know him better, now that you have the time. Tell him about you, if you decide to trust him, and I'm sure that he would still be willing to be your guardian. It would make it easier to keep Dumbledore and the Ministry at bay, if you are discovered."

It nearly broke her heart so see how small and unsure Harry looked right now. He was fiddling with the hem of his shirt, often swallowing nervously, and didn't dare to meet her eyes. His voice sounded small when he spoke.

"I wouldn't even know where to go..." He seemed inclined to accept her idea of sleeping on it not for a night but for a month or more, and trying to form a bond with his godfather, but at the same time his ridiculous request showed her how much he wanted to find a reason during that time. A reason to stay and have a normal life for once, because both of them were sure that he wouldn't get something comparable in the afterlife. Hermione could help but laugh, feeling relieved.

"You won't get away so easily, Harry James Potter," she said, playfully strict, and got up. "Wait a moment," was all she added before leaving the room, only to come back a few minutes later with several thick books in her arms. "If you'd like to get some ideas of the places you could visit, these are photos from our vacations all over Europe. You could look though them and see what you like most. We also have folder of leaflets of all the attractions we visited, you could copy them if you are interested." She handed him the albums and smiled.

"See, we won't have a problem finding some place for you to go to. After you decide on a location, I could contact Sirius and ask him to visit me because I am concerned about you, but don't want to talk about it in letters, just in case someone intercepts them, seeing as I don't have an owl and have to use an owl from the post office." Maybe she was planning too fast and threw Harry off his guard, but she hoped that it would make him say 'yes' just because he didn't want to disappoint her when she was so enthusiastic. Thinking about it, it was a bit of a Slytherin tactic, but she'd use everything she could to not lose him.

"Okay, okay", Harry was laughing, he had noticed what she was doing, but wasn't annoyed by it. He found it to be rather endearing and it was nice to feel that someone cared about him. "I'll try it and if I come to trust Sirius and he still wants to be my guardian after I told him, I'll even come back to Hogwarts, as long as Dumbledore leaves me alone. And if not.. If I can't trust him, or if he doesn't like me anymore after I told him, or if I just decide I want to leave.. I'll come to you to say good-bye. I promise you, I wont just vanish." He pulled Hermione in a hug. "I want you to know that I'm grateful. I didn't know what to do anymore after I was free and talking to you was my hope. You are a great friend." After he was finished speaking, he let her go and slightly embarrassed looked at the books. "Do you mind if I take those to the guestroom?" To take flight seemed to be the right thing to do, it had worked yesterday and Hermione nodded.

"Go, I will be here, starting with our homework. If you need anything or have a question, feel free to come back." Harry only reappeared for dinner, with a list of cities along the Mediterranean sea in his hand.

* * *

The next day was the day of the planned visit to Diagon Alley. The first stop was the post office, where Hermione paid to send an owl to Sirius. The letter was the first thing she wrote after Harry had left to his room.

_Snuffles,_  
_I am quite concerned about Harry's behavior on the train, and just before we said our good-byes, and would appreciate it if I could talk to you for a bit. You are probably the only one who can help Harry, but I'd rather we talk in private than through owls because I don't exactly trust the post owls, and I don't want to endanger you._  
_If you can, please come to my house this evening or the next. You can find my address on the empty parchment, just like a certain map._  
_Hermione_

If everything went well, Sirius would come to them this evening, and he and Harry could start their journey as soon as possible. Afterwards they went to Gringotts, and while the Grangers changed a few pounds to galleons as usual, Harry went to his vault to get enough money to prepare for his "little adventure", as he had dubbed it. He also questioned the goblin that took him to his vault about other branches of Gringotts, and was told that there was at least a small branch in every capital in Europe, so Harry could exchange his money on-site to get the best exchange rate. Back in the entrance hall, the goblin wanted to leave directly, but Harry stopped him.

"I'd also like to use your services of witnessing and storing a will, if that is possible." The goblin looked at him strangely, but motioned for him to follow, and Harry quickly got Hermione and her parents, because he wanted them to know what he had planned. They were led deeper into the building, and met the goblin Revnoc, who was responsible for everything concerning wills. Harry pulled forth the parchment that he had written his will on and gave it to Revnoc to read out loud.

_This is the last will of Harry James Potter._  
_All of my belongings and monetary assets are to be given to one Hermione Jean Granger. If Hermione isn't old enough to gain access to some things, Gringotts shall hold them until the time is right._  
_I trust her to distribute everything to those she deems worthy, or keep it if she thinks it best._  
_My vault is not to be disbanded on my death; instead, Hermione Jean Granger is to be become the new owner of the vault, and any other possible vaults that belong to me._  
_So it must be,_  
_Harry James Potter_

Revnoc gave the parchment back to Harry and handed him a quill, which Harry used to sign his will. Only when he turned to the Grangers to pass the quill to Mr. Granger did he notice the shocked expressions on their faces. He simply shrugged and mouthed to Hermione 'later'. Mr. Granger shook his head to come out of his stupor - who was he to question what the boy did, it was strange enough that he got to witness the will - and signed the parchment as the first witness and, after looking at Harry for guidance, gave the quill back to Revnoc, who signed as the second witness. After the ink was dried, Revnoc rolled the parchment together, sealed it with the Gringotts' seal and carefully wrote 'Harry James Potter' on the outside.

"Was that all?" he asked, after he put the scroll into a little basket that already held two other scrolls. It was obvious that goblins didn't like to waste time, as time was money.

"No, that is everything thank you. Please take the fee directly from my vault." The goblin nodded and took note of it, and the small group finally left Gringotts.

For the time being Harry ignored Hermione's questioning glances, and finally bought the two-way-journals that he needed for the Dursleys. Then he invited the Grangers to Fortescue's to get some ice cream. The two dentists were skeptical at first, but Harry managed to convince them to at least take a look, because the varieties were completely different from those in the muggle world. Of course there were normal flavours, but to the delight of the dentists Fortescue also had a bunch of sugar-free ice cream, and for children disgustingly healthy flavors. When everyone had chosen two flavors and Harry paid, he asked the Grangers to excuse him and Hermione, so they split up to sit at different tables. Harry chose one in a corner and murmured 'muffliato' again. That was what Hermione had been waiting for.

"Are you crazy, Harry? Why did you do that?" Harry looked at her fondly.

"You heard it, I trust you to distribute it accordingly. Don't want to give someone money who turns his back on me when he learns the truth about me. And I thought this way would be better than the other way round. If I tell more people the truth, I'll change my will accordingly. But if someone pushes me away after that, someone I thought cared about me, I don't think I will be strong enough to stay long enough to remove them from my will. This way I don't have to; I can say farewell and leave. And then I would like you to tell my chosen family and our friends, and give everyone who believes and doesn't freak out something. You know me well enough to do it as I would have done it."

To him it was really simple, but he could understand that Hermione felt differently about this responsibility. Even if she decided - and he was sure that she'd never do this - to keep everything, it would be okay with him. Therefore, she couldn't really do anything wrong, and that was it for him. Silently, they went back to Hermione's parents and finished their ice cream together. Having done everything in Diagon Alley they came for, they left for muggle London in search of a post office, where Harry wrote a few explaining lines for the Dursleys and send them together with the journal. He thought it would be better to send it the normal way than to remind them of his 'freakiness'. Then, they finally could return home, where Hermione and Harry sat silently together in Hermione's room, waiting and hoping that Sirius would arrive.

* * *

At five o'clock sharp Harry stood up and started to walk back and forth nervously. Five was evening to him, so if Sirius came, it would be in the next three to four hours. Hopefully earlier; Hermione already seemed unnerved by his behavior after ten minutes, but tried to concentrate on the essay she had started during their wait.

Another twenty minutes passed before the sound of the doorbell made Harry jump. Only Hermione's statement that it could be someone else stopped him from running down the stairs, but only until...

"Hermione? This Sirius you told us about is here," they heard Mr. Granger call from downstairs. Hermione smiled encouragingly at Harry, who now didn't seem so sure about it anymore, and together they went to the living room.

_"You'll see, it will all be okay"_, was the first thing Sirius heard, and he wondered to whom Hermione spoke. The letter had not been what he'd expect of the girl, and that was the reason he did as she asked. But when he saw Harry enter, he had to blink a few times.

"Shouldn't you be with those blasted relatives of yours?" escaped his mouth before he could stop himself. "Sorry, I'm just...surprised, that's all." He shook his head and stood up to give Harry a hug. "So that's what you didn't want to tell me, Hermione?" She nodded and sat down on a chair opposite the couch Sirius and Harry had claimed.

They talked for an hour, Harry telling Sirius about his deal with the Dursleys and of Hermione's idea to go on his first vacation ever. Only now did Hermione learn that Harry chose Venice as his first destination. Sirius was thrilled and 'of course I'd love to go on vacation with you, pup, did you really think I'd say no?' It didn't take long for them to decide to leave immediately. Sirius would apparate them to a hotel in France for the night, and the next day to Venice, where they would buy everything they needed when they needed it, and behave like spontaneous tourists, going from hotel to hotel until they found one they liked, and which had a free room. Hermione was shaking her head over their totally unplanned plan, but Harry loved it, and so she let them have their fun.

It wasn't long after that Harry had packed all his things from the guestroom and said good-bye and thank you to the Grangers. When he hugged Hermione farewell, he whispered "Don't worry, whatever happens, I'll come back to you at least one more time". And with that, Harry and Sirius left, turning around at the end of the driveway to wave one last time and heading to a secluded alley to apparate to their first stop to freedom.

* * *

Hermione didn't hear from Harry for the next three weeks, and took it as a good sign. He really should have told Sirius everything by now, and that he didn't come to say good-bye could only mean that it went well and they were now enjoying their vacation. But she was a bit worried that it didn't go well and Harry broke his promise not to leave without telling her beforehand.

It was only days before the Grangers would go on vacation themselves, this time to Greece, to the outskirts of Athens, and her parents started to get worried too, because Hermione wasn't as enthusiastic as she normally was just before they visited a new place. Currently, she was packing her trunk, and was glad that she made a list of everything she needed before she started, because she couldn't concentrate and if it weren't for the checkmarks on her list, she would have had no idea what she already had packed and what she needed next.

When there was a soft knock on her window, she flinched. Only then did she realize it was Hedwig, and she hurried to let the owl in and take the letter that was attached to her leg. She offered Hedwig one of Crookshank's biscuits, which Hedwig accepted after a careful examination of the unknown treat, before she left to return to Harry. Hermione took the letter and nestled down in her bed.

_Dear Hermione,_

_I'm sorry that I took so long to write, I hope you weren't too worried._  
_We left Venice a week ago and are now in Florence - the domes are even more impressive in real life than on your photos. But I guess we both know that this isn't the real reason I'm writing, and not what you have been dying to know, right?_  
_You don't have to worry, at least not for the time being. I told Sirius everything, from the beginning to now, and when I finished, he stood up and left. I was crestfallen, as you can imagine, but I didn't want to leave just then, without at least one more word with him. I should have known better._  
_That night, I was pulled out of my meditation by Sirius, who thought I was sleeping. He was crying and cradling me in his arms carefully so I wouldn't wake up. I pretended to sleep and felt as if my heart broke when I noticed that he didn't weep over his dead godson, or something like his godson being a monster. Instead he was grateful that I was still there, enraged that I had to go through what I can only call 'my life', and only then sad that Voldemort did succeed in killing me. Sometime during the night he fell asleep and I kept watch over him._  
_The next days we spent talking - I mean,_ really _talking. It was great, getting to him better in a more serious way; no, I couldn't let the opportunity pass._

_Together, we decided to give Dumbledore, the Ministry, and everyone else one year - yes, I'll come back to school with you - to make things right. Accepting Sirius' innocence, getting my guardianship transferred to Sirius, and letting me go live with him next summer. If they manage to do that, I will stay, no matter what. I have you, I have Sirius, and Sirius swears that Lupin will have no problems with me either._  
_If they don't get it done in that one year, there are two plans, depending on how many people I tell and how they react. If the overall is positive, Sirius and I will leave the Kingdom and search for a new home. With a negative score, I will go and he'll most likely leave the country together with Lupin._  
_We don't know what we will be doing for the rest of the holidays, but be sure of this: at the very least, we will meet on the train and I will go to Hogwarts._

_Harry_

She was happy, relieved, and without the burden of doubt on her mind, Hermione could finally look forward to her own vacation and to the school year that couldn't come fast enough.


End file.
